Column: So you want to open a restaurant...

I have two pieces of pat advice for anyone rash enough to approach me for counsel. First, never speak to the press. Second, don’t open a restaurant.

But seriously... I encourage you to speak to me if I approach you on assignment, though I will make clear that while you may think it’s your story, it’s really mine (or my editor’s). As for restaurants, too many people assume that I’m in the trade because I eat out all the time and — annoyingly to some folks — post photos of what’s on my plate. Or they assume that I’m doing research to start my own restaurant. I’d never do that. It takes a special brand of daring to plunge into the business. As a journalist, I’d rather tell stories of the ups and downs of the restaurant world than haul off on an adventure of my own.

Over the last three decades, I’ve seen a lot of restaurants open and either flourish or fail — or, heartbreakingly, flourish then fail. About 17% don’t survive their first year; and only slightly more than 50% get past the five-year mark. I suspect the statistics are different, perhaps harsher, for the category of big city fine-dining establishments where I tend to hang out. So, if you want to start a restaurant with ambitions beyond burgers, pizza or bubble tea, I can sketch out a couple of lessons, with the caveat above that I’ve never dared run one myself and the fact that others will have better advice on money and accounting. I’ll focus on more social aspects of the endeavor.

First, remember that your business won’t be launching into a vacuum — especially in a big city. You’ll be part of the so-called hospitality industry and it’s best to be welcomed by your peers, who will also be your rivals. In 2016, before Junghyun and Ellia Park — immigrants from South Korea — opened Atoboy, their first Manhattan restaurant, the couple went around New York to dine at established restaurants, befriending chefs, managers, servers and, just as importantly, the kind of customers that tend to become regulars. It was smart diplomacy: introducing themselves as affable, not hostile, arrivistes and raising curiosity around their project. The neighborliness generated tons of goodwill. Atoboy was and continues to be a success (and one of my favorite places to dine in New York). Since then, the Parks have opened several spots, including Atomix, which now has two Michelin stars and is consistently listed among the world’s best restaurants in several global rankings.

Otherwise entering a market full of talented competitors is daunting. A three-star Michelin chef in Europe told me that, at his prime, he turned down several opportunities to open a shop in New York because all the friends he had in the city would turn on him as an interloper out to grab their business. It’s all very cutthroat, and you’ve got to have drive and a ruthless streak to succeed. But being openly bilious about the rest of the field is bad form — and word about your ill will inevitably gets around.

Once, at an after-hours bar, I sat within hearing distance of the chef of a very well-reviewed restaurant and a couple of his deputy cooks. I’d been to their place a couple of times. While I enjoyed the food, the service was dismissive of customer concerns. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the bar conversation — and it was clear the spirit of the place descended from the top. The chef was crudely and audibly contemptuous of his rivals, other restaurants and of his clients. I have never gone back.

Lesson two is a corollary. Unless you’re a tiny artisanal four-seater in Kyoto, you really can’t run a restaurant solo. You’ll need people to make guests feel welcome when they walk in and await their food; or to cook at the various stations in the kitchen; or make sure the provisions arrive on time; and the accounting isn’t a mess. The hiring process is tough enough: The composition of your team and the division of labor is another. The best way to keep things under control is to learn to give up control — to the right people. I remember trying to get into a hot new opening and being bawled out by a sommelier upon whom was thrust the role of front-of-the-house manager. While a little snootiness can be a winning gambit while upselling diners on wine, visitors belittled merely for asking about a table may choose never ever to return.

Finally, decide what you really want. Michelin stars? If so, there’s a way to get on that ladder. Just be aware that once you’ve achieved the stars, you will have to earn them each year. A restaurant with three can always fall to two — and the stress of maintaining the status or losing it can be murderous. Being part of a larger, well-funded restaurant group may lessen anxiety over finances, but the big-money folks can just as easily revamp a kitchen they don’t think is working — replacing it with less ambitious cuisine to shore up the bottom line. I’ve seen several promising concepts over-expand and turn douche-y. And that’s a shame.

Even if the quest is to establish a low-key restaurant that can serve as a lifelong small business, you — especially if you are the chef and creative center of the place — still need to put yourself out in regular and social media to make sure diners know to want to get to your establishment. This isn’t Field of Dreams: If you build a restaurant, diners won’t just walk in. There is no hiding behind shyness.

So why do this? I couldn’t. To make people happy, you’ve got to be nice. That’s hard work and would make me unhappy. However, making people happy can create an enthralling feedback loop of endorphins: You feed people and raise their internal, that is natural, morphine levels. That happiness and their praise then raises yours. (The chemical is a portmanteau word composed of endo — inside — and morphine.) I know chefs who’ve left the kitchen — retiring or choosing to focus on making their restaurant corporations generate growth — and I can detect a wistfulness. They’d rather be cooking to make someone happy. The endorphin high is priceless.

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This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Howard Chua-Eoan is a columnist for Bloomberg Opinion covering culture and business. He previously served as Bloomberg Opinion's international editor and is a former news director at Time magazine.